


Bilge water

by darkandstormyslash



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Past Torture, Rape, Violence, broken Theon, greyjoy-cest, mentions of future torture, non-con, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 01:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6882718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Euron Greyjoy rather wants to break his nephew. Unfortunately Theon Greyjoy seems to have already been broken...</p><p>This is basically a PWP oneshot. Euron smacks Theon around and fucks him. Enjoy!<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bilge water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [INCBlackbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/INCBlackbird/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Трюмные воды](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071552) by [Vinsachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinsachi/pseuds/Vinsachi)



If he’d been on the _Silence_ Euron would’ve fucked the boy on the deck. But on this damn ship the men have tongues, so he drags Balon’s hysterical whelp down below decks, throws him up against the slimy side of the ship, and tries to enjoy himself while standing in two inches of bilge water in the dark.

It isn’t working particularly well.

The boy prattles non-stop as Euron drags him down. He'd expected to hear a certain amount of  _“No you can’t!”_  but there had been other, less welcome phrases.  _“He’ll find out, he’ll be angry, he’ll – you can’t – rhymes with, rhymes with –“_

What the fuck has happened while he’s been away?

He threatens to cut out the noisy little shit's tongue, and the boy finally falls silent, standing twitching in the gloom, body shaking, eyes wide and trembling. Euron feels forced into a grudging admiration for Eddard Stark. Theon never showed much promise as a boy, but even Euron would never have imagined sending him to the Starks would turn him into this twitching wreck. Who would’ve thought old Stark had it in him to treat his enemy’s son this badly?

He pushes Theon against the creaking hull, kicks his legs apart, and feels a wash of disappointment as the boy barely fights back at all. Instead he moves and stands like someone well practised in this particular act. Euron’s suspicions are further confirmed when forcing himself into the boy results in nothing more than a choked whimper. No cries, no screams, nothing worth suffering the friction on his cock for.

He’s annoyed at being robbed of his chance to break the boy and Euron grabs Theon’s hair, tugs it back hard, “Who was it then, eh? Stark himself? Or did he let his cubs fuck you?”

Theon stays silent, and Euron smacks his head against the wooden beams twice before he remembers that he gave the boy orders to keep silent. Another wash of disappointment. Theon doesn’t need teaching, he’s already _been_ taught. Euron had been looking forward to making Balon’s son his little bitch, but it looks like someone’s already done that.

“Speak.” He growls and Theon gives a choked gasp as if he’s only just remembered he has a tongue. Oh he’s been trained well, Euron can recognise that.

“N-not Stark he – he was my brother – I – I killed them, killed them both they were ghosts, I didn’t…”

The boy isn’t making any damn sense and Euron rolls his eyes. He knocks Theon’s head against the wall again, snarls “Shut it” and finishes off with a few hard thrusts because this is a fucking farce. Theon’s just a useless hole to fuck into, broken already. He wanted to take this the iron way and Theon hasn’t let him. Little prick.

He drops Theon when he’s finished and the boy goes down, curled up in the bilgewater, arms wrapped around himself, still whimpering “He’ll find out, he’ll know, he’ll know you took me, I’m not allowed, it has to be him, he’ll find out, he’ll hurt…”

“Who!” Euron snaps, kicking out at the forlorn slumped little figure. “Who’ll find out, who the hell are you this scared of? Stark’s been dead for years.”

Theon’s eyes look up at him, fearful, red-rimmed, watery. “Ramsay, L-lord Bolton…”

“Bolton?” He notices Theon twitch as he says the word so he says it louder. “Ramsay fucking Bolton? I don’t know a Ramsay Bolton. I knew of a bastard Ramsay Snow-“ he pauses as Theon yelps in dismay and kicks him again, hard between the ribs to shut him up. Not Stark then. This isn’t some justified Northern retribution on Balon’s son, this is something new.

Euron feels a coursing thud of anger rush through him. This Bolton boy has broken Theon, Theon who was _his_ to break! He grabs Theon by the hair and yanks him upright, his good eye gleaming.

“You’re going to tell me everything about this damn boy, and then we’re going to kill him, understand?”

“I can’t – I – he’ll find out, h-he’ll …” Theon’s babbling again, something about keys and dogs and fuck knows what else. Euron sighs and drops him back into the water, looking around the room while Theon panics. There are irons, some rusted chains that by the looks of them haven’t been used for a long time. They aren’t very strong, but they’re stronger than what’s left of Theon Greyjoy.

He drags them over and Theon yelps and kicks out skinny bruised legs. Whatever’s happened to him has left his terror for this Ramsay Bolton ranked higher than concern for his own skin. Euron slaps him hard across the face, bats away the fingerless scrabbling hands and cuffs the harsh chains around Theon’s wrists and ankles. The boy’s sobbing now, whether through old fear, new fear, old memories or new terrors Euron can’t tell.

“D-don’t leave me, don’t leave me down here – I won’t, I’ll be good, but you can’t, you can’t go after him, c-can’t go back to him, please, he – he’ll hurt me…”

“Shut up!” Once again Theon falls instantly silent, which only makes Euron more annoyed at him. He kicks out again and Theon curls up protectively as Euron’s boot bruises his stomach, his legs, his ribs again. Euron stamps down on Theon’s hand and hears a choked cry.

“You will tell me. You’ll tell me everything I need to know.”

Theon stays silent. Euron growls an irritated curse word into the hold. There genuinely isn’t anything left of this boy for him to break. He’s half tempted to sling him overboard and put them both out of their misery, but he needs to find out what the hell is happening in the North and the boy seems to know. He stamps his way out of the room, slams the door shut and then wrenches it open when he hears a tiny little voice from inside whisper, “He’ll kill you.”

“What?” Euron isn’t in the mood for this.

Theon’s still on the floor, but he’s looking up with frightened eyes. “He’ll kill you, a-and he’ll take me back.”

“And what if I kill him?”

A confused look flits over Theon’s face. His eyes drop down, and then his head follows, landing with a splash in the water sloshing across the floor. For a moment Euron wonders if he’s actually _died_ , if his body has just given up the ghost. But what is dead may never die.

“I hope you kill him.” Theon says softly. A whisper. So quiet and tremulous it’s almost lost in the creaking of the ship and the cries of the sailors.

Euron brightens up a bit. Maybe there is something left of Theon Greyjoy after all. Maybe deep inside, huddling under all those damaged twisted layers, is some part of Balon’s son that he can still break…


End file.
